Fall Into Pieces
by Empty Blissfulness
Summary: Ginny Weasley is falling into a deep depression. She's cutting. No one not Hermione, not her family, no one can comfort her. She hates herself and everyone else. She threatens to take her own life, but can someone stop her before it's too late
1. Chapter 1 rewritten

I opened the note from Harry, my boyfriend for the past two years, which some first-year boy had dutifully passed on to me for him. I was the girlfriend of "the boy who lived," otherwise known as Ginny Weasley. Harry had finally defeated Voldemort after sixteen years, and all was fine now at Hogwarts. It had been just a few months since Voldemort had lost his life to Harry—no one but Harry and Dumbledore, who was sadly deceased, knew how the boy had killed that monster who called himself a wizard. A human being. It hadn't been released in the press, and it never would be. Not even I, Harry Potter's girlfriend, knew how. To tell the truth, I wasn't sure I even _wanted _to know. I liked the way I saw Harry now; sweet, innocent, incapable of doing actual harm although I knew that was just my thoughts. Harry could hurt people; even I could hurt people. I liked illusions: face it, reality sucks.

I wondered what was up with the note. He usually spoke to me in person, not trusting the other students to deliver things and whatnot. _Dear Gin,_ it read. _I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Ok? Meet me at the Quidditch pitch during lunch. I'll be in the stands, the Gryffindor section, of course. –Harry Potter._ I read to myself. What could possibly be that important? I wondered. I was eager to talk to him, though, and lunch wasn't that far away. If only that god damn class would end, though! I was in fifth year Potions, of course. Sadly enough. _There's only half an hour left. I can endure thirty minutes, right_? I asked myself. I could, but it didn't seem like only thirty minutes. It seemed like hundreds and hundreds of minutes, hours, until the lunch 'bell' rang throughout Hogwarts, and I stood quickly with my bag slung over my shoulder. While everyone else rushed to the Great Hall, anxious to eat the magnificent food the elves cooked up every day and chat with one another, I took a short cut to get out to the Quidditch pitch. It was the very end of December, only two days until New Year's Eve, January first. I wrapped my arms around me as I treaded through the snow to the Gryffindor stand. As I caught sight of Harry, I smiled and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, the breeze making my red hair flutter against my face.

But he pushed me away. I blinked up at him, my eyebrows pulling together with concern, my eyes showing the hurt that I felt from being abruptly rejected by the person I'd loved for over two years. "I'm breaking up with you," he said with a straight face. I saw a hint of joy in his eyes and glared, the tears just pooling quicker in my amber eyes.

"Are you actually _enjoying_ the act of _breaking my heart?_" my voice dripping with venom, I felt furious and shattered. I wanted to crawl under a rock, but I also wanted to throw that god-damned rock right at this gorgeous celebrity's head. I could see the gears working in his head: 'play nice, or you might get hurt by this chick. Or even worse, one of her brothers will be pissed and beat you within an inch of your life.' That would explain the sudden guilty expression. "Why, Harry…? Is there—is there another girl? Has there always been another girl?" I struggled to contain the tears.

"Yes, alright, YES! I CHEATED ON YOU! I DON'T LOVE YOU ANYMORE!" I was shocked by his sudden outburst. I took a step back. "I hate the way you act! So freakin' self-righteous, so virtuous, and so special! Like you're any different from other girls just because you won't give it up!" he yelled, and my jaw went slack. Well, there was my answer.

"You're breaking up with me because I won't have sex with you," I said, my voice suddenly calm—a sure sign that I was about to lose it. My hand snuck inside my robe, resting on the pocket that held my wand. My fingers trembled. "You bloody bastard!" I couldn't hold my tears back now; they spilled from my eyes and he smiled with satisfaction. I walked up to him. "You know what?" I took my hand from my robe and stormed up to him; soon, my fist came in contact with his jaw and his head slammed to the side, a knot already forming from the place where my admittedly bony knuckles hit. I pushed him hard enough to make him fall back on his arse in the snow, and at this sight I let out a fake, cold laugh. "I don't know why I ever loved you," I ran then. I ran as far as my legs would take me, and I ended up by the frozen lake. I sat down and cried. I remembered how I was so eager for lunch to come, and thought, _I wish that thirty minutes hadn't gone so quickly!_ I leaned my head on my knees, feeling the snow start falling. I shivered, but didn't get up; I didn't do anything. I hoped this moment would never end- there was no one here to reject me; it was so peaceful and quiet.

The only burden that sat upon my shoulders was what had just happened. I couldn't believe he had cheated on me for two whole years and I'd never even suspected it. I realized he'd been purposely dropping hints about it for the past year, and suddenly I felt a feeling of self-loathing. I was so _stupid!_ I should've realized what he was doing. His words came back to me, "I don't love you anymore! I hate you!" and I agreed with him silently. _Ginny_, I spoke silently in my mind, _I hate you. You're worthless; no wonder he broke up with you!_ It was completely true now. I was ashamed of myself- the only thing I was proud of was not having sex with him and hitting him; nothing else. _I still love him…_I thought sadly. _Why won't he love me, too? _I got up slowly. I skipped the rest of lunch and went up to the girls' dormitory in the north Gryffindor tower, wondering who the other girl was. On my way I saw Draco Malfoy. He looked at me in a funny manner, almost sympathetically_. Sympathetically? Pfft. Not likely AT ALL._ I thought. Draco Malfoy hated every single Weasley, both alive and dead, and he always would._ Like he'd care about me or anyone else._ I rolled my eyes. When other people gave me funny looks, like my own friends, for example, I wondered if my eyeliner had run with the tears. My eyes were probably bloodshot too. I ignored them the best I could and just retreated to my bed. I lie on my side and let more tears fall, staying like that until someone finally came up.

"Gin?" Hermione called, sounding cautious as she spoke. "Ginny? Are you in here?" I just ignored her completely, not ready to talk to anyone yet. I heard her open the curtains that hung around my own personal space in the dormitory, and then gasp—probably at my appearance.

"Yeah. I'm atrocious," I said, laughing bitterly. I felt her sit on the bed beside me, putting a hand on my back reassuringly.

"Are you okay, Gin? I can always help, you know," she tried to console me. Nuh-uh, that stuff just wasn't going to pass with me today. I wasn't stupid enough to fall for that, at least. I shook my head. I didn't know _what_ exactly to believe anymore. "What's wrong with you?" she asked. I got up, and when I passed the mirror, I still didn't know why people looked at me strangely because my make up wasn't messed up or anything. Thank God for waterproof cosmetics, right?

Apparently I took on an angry expression; Hermione blanched visibly. "Why does everyone assume something is wrong with me?!" I asked. I ran out, like I'd been doing all day to get away from people, but this time I seriously didn't know where I was going or even if I was walking. I did know I was crying again, heavy-feeling tears rolling down my cheeks. I knew Hermione was right to ask that, because there WAS something wrong with me. There was something very wrong with me. My boyfriend whom I'd been going steady with for the past TWO YEARS just broke up with me because I've got enough pride to NOT have sex with him, and I found out he'd been cheating on me the whole time. _I can't stop thinking about it!_ I thought angrily. I wondered if dinner was over yet, and I realized that my out of control feet had just taken me past the Great Hall. I walked back until I got to the doors. I saw everyone still there, but it looked like they'd only begun moments prior to when I got there. I wiped my tears quickly and stopped the ones threatening to spill, walking in like nothing has happened.

One girl came up to me and said, "I'm so, so sorry, Ginny," in a mockingly sympathetic voice. _Bloody hell, does everyone know about it?!_ I wondered, raising my eyebrows and just walking to Gryffindor table. I sat in between Fred and George (who were in their last year, despite the fact that they were both eighteen—they had returned to complete school), somehow feeling safe with them around me. That's what big brothers were for, right?

l Harry sat down, shooting me a pleased, smug look, and wrapped his arms around a girl. When the girl turned her face, I saw who it was and my lips formed an 'o' of surprise. Cho Chang? One of my best friends?! I'd had enough of it; enough of the betrayal I was getting from the people I loved most. I stood up abruptly, so suddenly that the plate and cup I was using fell off the table, shattering, and the twins were pushed to the side. I leaned over the table, grabbing Cho by the collar of her shirt and pulling her towards me. I knew very well that everyone who was watching was thinking, 'What happened to the shy, sweet Ginny Weasley I know?' but I didn't care. I knew some people were afraid- probably the girls that liked Harry. _Let them be afraid_, I thought. _Because I don't really give a damn_. I got in Cho's face, glaring daggers into her eyes. _If only looks could kill!_ Cho and Harry, and just about a million other people in this god damn world of mine would be DEAD. "Cho Chang, my dear best friend," I said sarcastically. "You know, it must have been fun giving yourself to someone you hardly know. It must have been fun betraying one of your friends, and it was probably fun for you to see me get hurt so badly, too, but guess what! I know how to have fun, too." I said in a vicious voice.

I let go of Cho but at the same time I punched her, hitting her nose dead-on. No slaps or hair-pulling or biting or clawing; nothing. I think I broke her nose, too, because I heard a sort of crunching noise. All the better! Everyone was surprised now, and I think that the only people who didn't know what this fight was about were my own family members sitting at that very table. She shrieked in pain, but it wasn't loud enough to be heard over all the talking. Plenty of people saw it though. Plenty of people knew what it was about. Plenty of people DIDN'T try to stop me because of that very fact. I was grateful, and they should be too, because if they had tried to stop me I'd probably be punching THEM instead. It appeared that perfect, innocent Ginny Weasley—aka me—had a violent side.

I threw her to the ground and Harry yelled for me to stop, rushing to help Cho. I stared at him. "WHY SHOULD I STOP?!?! So that little WHORE can still be perfect?!" I yelled back at him. He stood straight, looking me angrily in the eye.

"WHAT did you just say?!" he said in disbelief. He grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the Great Hall. I looked into people eyes, reading what they were thinking. Most of them thought that we were about to "kiss and make up," as the saying goes. Not likely. I wasn't about to forgive his sorry ass. Looking up at him, I realized he had a bruise on his jaw from my knuckles—did anyone know I'd done that, too, or did they all believe he'd gotten the bruise at Quidditch practice?

He dragged me further into the castle; in other words, further away from people, and a sudden feeling of fear struck me. I had already learned that the Harry I knew WASN'T the real Harry. I had already learned, long ago when he defended me against Tom Riddle and killed the basilisk, that Harry Potter was not a harmless teenage boy. So…what if he tried anything? What if he hurt me? I, being forgetful and rash, had forgotten my wand, which I had taken out of my robe when I had went into my 'room.' What protection did I have against a strong, sixteen year old Quidditch playing male?

None. Now he was starting to get rougher. A lot rougher, actually…"Harry!" I cried, feeling like the pathetic girl that always gets hurt in those Muggle movies. "You're hurting me!"

"Well," he started in a sharp voice. "You hurt Cho! Little bitch…" I closed my eyes. I couldn't make myself believe this was real. I couldn't make myself believe Harry would ever hurt me, or that we weren't together. I had loved him for too long to do that. I felt my body being tossed onto the ground. There was Harry, looking angry and…and something I couldn't describe, hovering over me threateningly. _What was he going to do to me?_ I looked around quickly- we were in the room of requirements. _Bloody hell_. Nobody would know where to find me if he DID do something; if I did get hurt and couldn't get out. Sure, I thought he was the sweetest guy I'd ever met in my life at first. I couldn't trust his (or Cho's) word at all, and I never would be able to. So I obviously had NO IDEA as to what he was going to do here in the Room of Requirement. Would he hurt me? Would he finally get "it" from me with force? All these thoughts raced through my mind, making me even more frightened.

He pushed me back from my sitting position so I was lying straight on my back, then crouched over me with one knee on either side of my body. He leaning over to where his nose almost touched mine; he held my arms down, knowing I was going to fight whatever he'd try to do. "You never gave me what I wanted; what I, as a man, needed," Harry started to explain while unbuttoning my shirt. I'm surprised he didn't just RIP the whole thing off my body! No, he was trying to make me suffer. He knew very well I had never had sex and had never planned on it—at least, not until I was married.

"Man? A MAN wouldn't be doing this!" I said in a cracking voice. I guess I figured that I couldn't be in a worse predicament than him raping me now, so what did insulting him matter?

Oh. I guess it did matter, as I soon found out. "You're saying I'm not a man?" he said with a taunting, suggestive smirk- it was worse than _Malfoy's_ smirk! I immediately knew what was coming and wished I could shut myself up for once. "Well, let me prove you wrong. I've always wanted this. I knew I'd have to get it the hard way- but you'll give in and enjoy it. I promise you will," he said mischievously with an eyebrow raised. I felt a breeze going across my stomach and chest- he had finished taking my shirt off and was now working on my bra. I realized that he had let go of my arms, so I grabbed his hands in a futile attempt to free myself. "So, you're still not giving it up, eh? Well, little Ginny, I will get it by any means necessary. So you may as well lie back and enjoy it." I was disgusted, and didn't bother covering that fact up. I ENJOYED my innocence, being a virgin! I was proud of it! Why was he trying so hard to take it away? But…he was right. There was seriously nothing successful that I would be able to do against him, because I had forgotten my wand. I really, really wished I hadn't, now, though. But I WASN'T going to enjoy it- I promised myself that, and it would stay that way. Right? Yeah. Yeah, it would. What worse could happen? Ugh…Why did I have to think that?!

Everyone knows when you ask that that fate will prove you wrong, making even more bad things happen. The question will just come back and bite you in the ass. Harry slammed my arms back down onto the floor and my wrists popped out of their…sockets, I guess. It was really painful, but I grit my teeth and with one movement of each hand got them back in with another loud 'pop!' while glaring up at his now cruel features. When had he become so abusive? Controlling or cruel? He'd never, ever been like that before! We'd gotten to almost doing it, but as soon as he tried, I'd ask him to stop and he'd smile sweetly at me and say he understood. Was he only going out with me to get into my pants?

Oh…yeah, he was.

Soon my upper torso got really cold. I felt goose bumps forming on my skin and shivered. I knew immediately he'd gotten my bra off and panicked even more. I knew I couldn't stop him at this point- he was too strong for me, as I've stated a thousand or so times. I'll probably say it even more, though, because it's true- well, as long as I didn't have my wand it was true, of course. I was much better at magic than he was and though he'd survived you-know-who lots of times, it was only thanks to his mother. I'm sure his parents were rolling in their graves right now (no offense to Lily and James Potter, of course). Even if I screamed, no one would hear me.

He started to unbutton the two buttons on the dark jeans I'd worn under my school robes that day, and I started thrashing my legs around, squirming and kicking. This just made him go faster, though, but I refused to give up without a fight. I didn't want to go down as 'the girl who succumbed to Harry Potter's lust' or whatever people would think of, which was very likely to happen.

I kept kicking and thrashing about, and it seemed he'd had enough (probably because I'd kicked him in his groin twice already) and hit me. He really hit me! I groaned in pain; he'd just back-handed me across the face. I don't really know which one it actually was, though, but I DO know it hurt like hell. I'd have a bruise for sure- I'd think of an excuse for it…maybe I tripped and landed face-first. I was a very clumsy girl, so people would believe me, right?

I felt something bulging against my own leg- I knew what is was and refused to look down. Instead, I tried to become numb. It stopped the tears that had been threatening to spill, but it didn't stop the feelings. I knew he'd finally gotten my jeans off, and I tried to shift my body again- not thrashing though because he had a knee on each of my legs to keep me down. "Don't make me hit you again," Harry growled at me in a husky voice. If this had been under normal circumstances, if I had let him do this willingly, if we were still together, I would have found that voice sexy. "I'll hit you harder. Just cooperate and at least pretend to enjoy it and I can finish it up quickly and painlessly." Painlessly for who—him? How badly and was this going to hurt? He didn't bother sliding my panties off, he just RIPPED them. I quenched my eyes shut even more, bearing myself for the pain that would be searing through my body soon. Sooner than expected, too.

I felt him steady himself above me, making sure that he wouldn't fall on me. I still refused to open my eyes, and when he thrust himself into me quickly, I grit my teeth to try and keep from screaming, from showing him my pain, but failed. I cried out in pain, trying to grip something to have SOME way of releasing my pain- my hands found their way to Harry's shirt, which ended up in me pulling myself up and having my back arch painfully. I'm sure my knuckles were white as chalk and that he was grinning in a perversely perverted manner; I didn't even have to open my eyes to know it or to be even more disgusted by him. What does THAT show you? "I…I loved you, Harry…" I groaned out slowly. "And now you're betraying me like this. I hate you. I fucking HATE YOU!" I screamed the last part at him, opening my eyes finally. Our faces were less than inches away from each other, and I searched his eyes for feelings.

Lust. Joy. Laughter. Pleasure. Anger, but no guilt. How could he NOT feel guilty for what he'd done to me? Maybe this would work; I kissed him hard on the lips, pulling him even closer to me. He was out of me now, probably distracted by whatever it was I was saying. It…It felt GOOD to kiss him again, surprisingly enough. I missed the feel, the softness of his kiss. And I HATED that I felt this now! I wanted him to feel guilty, but I was just making myself feel guilty instead. "I loved you…" I mumbled sadly. He opened his eyes- I saw the same things, but could that be—a spot of guilt on that ever perfect face.

But apparently he interpreted the kiss as a sign for him to continue his self-pleasuring act, instead of a desperate attempt to stop him, because he started again what he was doing earlier. Did he even HEAR my words? Did he see the look in my eyes? WHY IS HE SO STUPID?! He pushed into me over and over again, getting faster, deeper, and harder. But the worst part was…I was starting to enjoy it, once the pain had passed. I hated myself for it, too. I had promised myself I wouldn't be enjoying this! I promised! Why me? I hated it so much; I could no longer enjoy being a virgin because now I knew what this really felt like. I wished I hadn't found out, though. Then the thought of pregnancy entered my mind. 'Is he using a condom? Is he?' I wondered. I'd forgotten to take my pill that morning, so there WAS a chance. "Are…you…using a…" I breathed out, unable to finish my sentence. He nodded. I half-sighed, half-moaned (Sadly, with pleasure) at this. At least he cared enough to do that one good deed. No matter how much I was loving the feeling, however, I felt I needed to say something and quick, before this got even further. "Harry…Please stop…" I cried, not wanting anymore of this; at least no one could say I had asked for this. Could they?

He shook his head, grunting, "No, I can't. Not…not now. We've gotten too far," and I agreed that we'd gotten too far; or rather, he had gone too far. It wasn't my fault I was enjoying this. But half of me didn't want to stop at all. Half of me really, really wanted to stop. I moaned, saying something completely unintelligible. I don't even think I myself knew what I was saying, really. I wondered absentmindedly how long we'd been doing this. I ran a hand through his hair, kissing him again. I just couldn't help myself. He laughed but I'd always loved his laugh. Even with the cold, harsh quality it had taken on…He groaned out something again.

A while after the…erm, event, he finally finished and I was happy as ever at first. He kissed me hard and passionately, and then smirked, unlocking the door and leaving me all alone. It was dark in the room now. Then I realized what exactly had just happen and broke down completely. I sat on my knees, crossing my arms over my bare chest, and cried, letting all the tears I'd been holding back previously cascade from my eyes. I heard little tiny 'thunk' sounds as the abundance of warm tears fell from my eyes. My inner thighs were caked with blood and his semen, and I felt so ashamed that a new pool of tears spilled. _How could I enjoy that?_ I asked myself that question repeatedly, and finally I got the answer.

I still loved Harry. Despite everything that had happened that day, I still loved him. Now how could THAT be possible, I asked myself. I loved someone I couldn't have. He didn't want me, anyway…I heard someone's footsteps, followed by the shutting of a door. I felt the floor change under me, realizing someone was in here and had requested something else of the room. I felt a rug, and wondered if my clothes were still in the room. Who—who was there? Who was going to see me in such a horrible, _disgusting_ state?

"Weasley?" I heard a shocked voice. It was Draco Malfoy; the amazing bouncing ferret boy. I kept my head down, even more ashamed that someone was actually SEEING me like this! Especially the reputed Sex God of Slytherin. What would _he _do? I shrunk myself by a few centimeters or so, trying to cover every part of me I could without exposing my chest, or anything else, for that matter. I couldn't stop crying; I just couldn't. As much as I tried to, the tears kept streaming from my eyes. _Why the hell wouldn't they stop?_ "I-I…What h-happened to y-you?" he stammered. I didn't feel like dealing with him right now. Soon he'd been making snide comments on how I "gave it up" even though I was forced into it. Of course, unless the tears were a dead give away, he wouldn't even know that I had been taken unwillingly.

"Why do YOU care, of all people?!" I spit sharply at him. It was true. Why would he care?

"I can change my attitude, can't I?" he said sharply back. Did I hear a hint of SADNESS in his voice? No way had I heard that. I'd never heard, or seen, him sad; never in my lifetime. And he was only one year older than me. He would NEVER change his attitude towards ME- I'm a Weasley.

"You h-hate me…you hate my f-family…" I said slowly, choking on my words. I was coming to really not like that word; hate. What a _stupid_ word. Who would even want to know a word like that? "So why would you want to change your attitude towards me?" I asked him sincerely. I was tired and sore. I didn't have energy for sarcasm and little cruel jokes.

"Because…because…" he started. His face took on a look of despair, like he couldn't deal with something anymore. Pfft. Like he'd gone through anything like I had! My thoughts were selfish, I knew it, but couldn't help it.

"Spit it out, boy," I said harshly, wiping my eyes carefully as I raised my eyes to look up at him. He had a horrified, pained and concerned expression. Maybe he did have a nice side…

"Because I _love _you," he finally said. Despite my thoughts about thinking maybe he had a nice side, I couldn't believe him.

"Yeah, right. Let's play mind-games with the girl who just got dumped and raped! Let's kick her when she's down!" I practically screamed at him. With a swift movement of my wrist my robe covered me. I turned once it was on and got my clothes on without him seeing anything. I knew I'd be really, really shaky and sore, my hair a mess and my face flushed red from…everything that had happened. It took a great strength that I didn't know I had to keep from bursting out with tears and sobs. "You know what, Malfoy? I'm tired of all this. I'm tired of being stabbed in the back, and I'm tired of trying to be played by bloody fools like you! It's just fucking stupid, so STOP!" I yelled. He was shocked by my sudden outburst. "You know, I've been told I'm hated so many times today, that I'm a worthless bitch. But the ONE time I'm told by someone they love me, it's all a joke! You don't mean it…you can't mean it. How could anyone?" my voice got really soft and sad. If I could have controlled that, I would have kept it angry. "I may be stupid enough to fall for Harry, but I'm not THIS stupid, Malfoy. So just…please stop." I pushed past him, and walked, but before leaving I stopped, my fingers twisted childishly into the front of my robe, my head bowed. "It doesn't matter anyway," I said quietly to him. "The one person I do…did…love doesn't love me back."

And with that, I limped out.

Malfoy stood there, surprised by Ginny's sudden…outburst of words. What was she talking about, though? He hadn't heard of anything about her and Harry. 'I meant it, though….' He thought sadly. He sat on a couch, putting his fist under his chin, and just sat there. 'How come no one believes me when I try to be…sincere? Why can't I love who I want to without being criticized, even by her?' Then he got an idea, brightening up some, but still worried and terrified for Ginny's sake.

I just walked, rubbing my stinging eyes. How many times could I get hurt in one day? I really hope I hadn't just jinxed myself. If anything else happened, I'd die.

Actually, that seemed to be an inviting thought, to tell you the truth. I meant it. I felt like there was absolutely nothing worth living for. The "man" I love doesn't love me back. I don't know if he really ever did, and I was no longer was a virgin (just thinking about the sex sent chills up my spine- and this time, they weren't good ones). Earlier during a class (I don't remember which one, though) I had found out my grades were dropping tremendously. Besides- there's no point in living if you can't enjoy the life you lead. I kept walking, letting out my tears so they wouldn't get in the way of what I was about to do. I wanted relief, not pain, and tears would just cause pain.

I got to the Gryffindor common room, stopping my tears immediately and just walked. I had to peak a glance at Harry, though. He hair was even messier because of the…ahem, thing, and he turned and grinned, looking me up and down. His eyes rested briefly on my chest and…lower parts. I felt the chills again, good chills, suggestive chills, chills that made me want more. This increased the self-hatred I was feeling. I went up into my room, looking through my trunk until I found it. I hid the small silver metal sliver-like thing (some type of knife. Muggles called it something else but I couldn't remember) in my pocket, and changed my clothes first. I felt disgusting in these clothes coated in bodily fluids. It was truly sickening. This time, though, I grabbed my wand—not taking anymore dumb chances. Then I walked to the girls' bathroom, glad the stall walls went all the way to the ceiling and floor. I locked the door, letting myself slide down the wall and rested at the bottom, taking the metal out.

I knew what most muggle teenagers used these things for and I also knew that they were hated by society half the time because people thought they were freaks. But I was already hated by the only person I cared about, and if the rest hated me, oh well. No one would find out I was doing this, anyway. Suddenly, I felt a surge of pain in my abdomen and cut my arm purposely with the knife. I moaned quietly, not in pain though. I felt relieved when I cut myself, and did it again. I carved Harry's name into my arm, but I gasped when I saw it, as if surprised the words were there, and I glared at my hand. Then I heard a voice; Hermione's voice.

Was it me or was she starting to get really, really annoying with all her worrying? I shoved the bloody razor into my pocket, and grabbed a huge wad a toilet paper, wiping up as much blood off the floor and my arms as I could, flushing it down the toilet. I pulled my long sleeve and my robe sleeve down over my right arm (the one I'd cut) and felt it still bleeding. But the only way someone would know I was bleeding was if they touched my arm or pulled up the sleeve. Or if I told them; but that wasn't going to happen at all. I heard Cho Chang, too. It sounded like Hermione was fighting with her. I hated eavesdropping, but it was CHO. _Treat others as you'd like to be treated. _I thought bitterly for her. "Cho, what was with you and Ginny and Harry today at dinner?" Hermione asked.

Cho explained it to her completely. And it was full of details that Harry hadn't told me, and I choked back the never-ending tears at them. Apparently Hermione was mad. "Bitch!" the smart muggle-born yelled. Wow. I'd never heard her cuss at someone. "You were one of her best friend's and you did THAT?!" Next I heard something drop to the floor, before that something that sounded like the impact of a fist hitting a face- I knew that sound well. Hermione had hit Cho Chang! I knew that from when Harry came in, yelled something at Hermione, and I burst out of the stall. I wasn't going to let what he'd done to me happen to my REAL best friend, Hermione. Sure, she was annoying and all, but she was my best friend and I needed to protect her. Luckily, I'd brought my wand (but Hermione hadn't, Harry had. Bad timing, like mine earlier) and took it out, aiming it straight at Harry.

"I'm NOT going to let it happen again! _Petrificus totalus_!" I screamed at him, and he fell to the floor, completely stiff, his eyes open and darting around. Hermione lead me out. I was shaking. We went into the dormitory, sitting on her bed. Well, I sat on mine.

"What did you mean 'I'm not going to let it happen again'?" Hermione asked me curiously.

"What you think happened after he pulled me out of the Great Hall isn't…isn't what you thought happened," I said slowly, wording it just right. In my opinion. She asked me what really happened. "I can't tell you. You wouldn't be able to handle it." I sent her this sad look. "Trust me, you WOULDN'T be able to." I knew she wouldn't be able to. Hermione was too…sensitive, I guess. I can't think of any other word for it. But I couldn't bring ANYONE into the way my life was going. No one; it would just make everything way worse.

"You can tell me, Ginny." She said to me, but I simply shook my head.

"Y-You don't know what you're trying to get yourself into!" My voice was raising with something like panic. _I _sure didn't know what I was getting myself into.

"You know you can trust me, right?" She tried to reassure me. I had stood up, but I whipped around at that, a fire in my eyes.

"I can't trust ANYONE!" I yelled at her. She was taken aback. I felt guilty- but what else was new? Well, obvious answer and question. I think she was about to cry because her eyes got kind of shiny. "I screw EVERYTHING up!" I muttered to myself before rushing to her and wrapping her in my embrace—but I remembered my bleeding arm and pulled away, casting her a soft glance and walked away. I hastened my pace, walked past the bathroom where girls were screaming (probably over Harry and Cho) and rolled my eyes. How come no one but my family and Hermione could care about me like that? What was so wrong with ME? Harry was the one who had just forced me into sex (like I said before- it wasn't MY fault I enjoyed it a little). So…why was everyone turning their backs to me?

I tried to figure out where I was. Once again, my legs had taken me somewhere and I had had no control over it whatsoever. I looked around, realizing I was in a floor above the dungeons. I went to a window, sitting down on the sill because I was still sore, and stared at the beautiful full moon and all the little yellow stars, my head full of thoughts and confusing me so badly. I pulled my right sleeve up, inspecting the cuts and heard a gasp and heavy footfall. I looked over, alarmed, and saw Draco Malfoy. Was he stalking me or something? Did he plan to do something to hurt me, too?

I fumbled to shove my sleeve down. "Ginny…" He said softly, his voice cracking. He'd never called me (or ANY of my family, for the matter) by my first name. He hardly ever called me by my last name, actually; it was usually replaced with some snide 'nickname.' Maybe he really did mean what he said earlier…

I corrected myself immediately. It wasn't possible.

"I love you…" I heard again, in my head. No. No, it wasn't in my head, he was saying it out loud to me again. I felt his lips press softly and sweetly against mine, and subconsciously kissed him back. He didn't mean it. He didn't mean it. He didn't mean it. He didn't mean it…


	2. Chapter 2

I was aware that I was kissing back as I felt Draco's hands holding my face gently, his thumbs stroking my still damp, tear-streaked cheeks. I let him kiss me, though I was still very doubtful of his words. "I love you," He had said. It was so, so hard to believe anyone could...I felt the tip of his tongue touching my lower lip slightly in a shy manner. The Sex God of Slytherin acting shy? How the hell had that happened?

His thumb brushed against the place Harry had hit me and an unceremonious whimper escaped my lips, blowing air across his mouth, and I pulled back from the kiss. A sudden terror filled my eyes as I looked up at him, and he immediately pulled his hands and face away from me. He knew why I was scared; knew what I was scared about. I bit my lower lip where his tongue had touched, averting my eyes. He seemed so…so openly worried. So frightened for me. Could it be? Could Draco Malfoy really love a Weasley—and a Gryffindor, none the less—like me?

He put his hand under my chin, and when I didn't blanch he proceeded to tip my face up towards him some, stepping closer to me carefully, and turning my head to the side gently to inspect the place where he assumed I was hurt. When he saw the dark bruise adorning my pale skin, his gorgeous grey eyes widened. I'd always thought the older boy was gorgeous; but what always took away from his looks was his asinine, cruel behavior. I desperately hoped these sweet gestures and words weren't all part of some sweet façade, and at the same time, I couldn't help but pray that this wasn't going to change my views on him. I didn't really want to become involved with someone romantically…not after what Harry had done; being cheated on for two years and then being broken up with was one thing. Being raped, though, went to a whole 'nother level.

"Does it hurt?" Draco asked suddenly, his voice quietly. My eyes, which I had directed somewhere else, flit back towards him.

I assumed that he meant my cheek. I let him hold my chin up and brush his fingers against the bruise. That didn't hurt, just pressure. I shrugged. "I'm sore everywhere," I mumbled quietly, my eyes downcast once more. When I looked up at him, he was nibbling on his lower lip, seemingly in thought. I wondered, as I had many times earlier, if I could trust him. When I thought about trust, I thought about Harry.

When I thought about Harry, I burst into tears. Again.

Draco was immediately pulled from his thoughts, surprised by my fresh tears, and I found myself horrified as he wrapped his arms around me, leaning against the window sill to hold me close to his firm chest. I let myself bury my head in his chest, my tears spilling against his Slytherin uniform, and he made soft, comforting cooing sounds, trying to help me stop crying. It felt so, so good to be held; to be comforted! Was I giving in to what I thought were Draco's lies? Was I starting to believe he did love me?

Thinking about it, maybe it wasn't so far-fetched. As my tears slowed, I realized maybe he had always been cruel to me because he was afraid of what his judgmental Slytherin peers would think if he admitted to crushing on a Weasley, and a Gryffindor and so-called blood traitor at that. We certainly did have a relationship; not a normal one, not a healthy one and not a compatible one—up until now, that is--, but it was a relationship. A five-year long relationship, actually…

He started rubbing my back, and another 'theory' came into mind. Maybe he'd said it because he felt pity for me. Pity for the girl who had just gotten raped, abused. This could all be a trap, a trick, some stupid façade.

So many times today I'd thought that. I pushed him away, my fingers twisting into his shirt as I kept him an arm's length away and looked up at him with bloodshot, clouded eyes. "You better not be lying to me," I said weakly. "I'll fucking kill you if you're lying. If you're trying to trick me or make fun of me or, even more important, are just trying to get into my goddamned pants, I'll kill you in slowly. Painfully."

I couldn't believe he actually cracked a smile at my words. He seemed amused by this, but at the same time, incredulous that I'd say such a thing. He shook his head, that pale, shaggy blond hair tickling his cheeks. "I'd never lie about loving someone, and I'd never make fun of someone who had already gone through enough hell," he said softly, and somehow I knew that these words were only applicable to me. He sighed, looking past me out the window, and I let him sit beside me on the sill. He grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together and, despite all I'd gone through previously, I felt my heart jump at this simple, sweet gesture. The Slytherin prince…he'd been a death eater—not willingly, but he had been one…being sweet; being caring. Who the hell would've ever thought? "I guess I can't really blame you for not trusting me," Draco said quietly, leaning his head back against the icy window. "I've been nothing but a bloody bastard to you and your family. I'm not going to give you any excuses about that, I know you probably don't want to hear them, although the ones I would tell you are completely true. But I just hope you can come to trust me."

Draco was blushing. The softest, loveliest red tint spread over his porcelain cheeks, and my heart jumped again. I rubbed my eyes as I looked up at him, and he reached over to swipe at a tear I'd missed. Despite his new shyness, embarrassment, whatever it was, he continued explaining himself. "And I'll never tease your or anything—I'm going to take your words seriously, and not risk being beheaded by some angry chick," he winked at me, and to my surprise, I smiled.

Draco Malfoy, one of few enemies I'd ever had in this school, was making me happy.

I couldn't believe it.

a href"http://s156. target"blank" img src"http://i156. border"0" alt"Snow" /a 


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